Last Resort
by SoulReaperOfTheInnocent
Summary: After an onslaught of rescues, tension is running high within the Tracy family and it's up to the first born son to keep it together. Can Scott protect his family? At what cost? Could his last resort mean the ultimate sacrifice? 'In Scott's mind it was simple. His brothers came first, always had and always will, even if it meant he suffered as a consequence.' !Being Rewritten!


**Summary:** After an onslaught of rescues, tension is running high within the Tracy family and it's up to the first born son to keep it together. Can Scott protect his family? And at what cost? Could his last resort mean the ultimate sacrifice? 'It's just what brothers do. In Scott's mind it was simple. His brothers came first, always had and always will, even if it meant he suffered as a consequence.'

Scott - 27 John- 25 Virgil- 24 Gordon-21 Alan-17 - Approx. Ages

 **A/N:** This is my first Thunderbird fanfiction so apologies in advance if its completely terrible :) Please let me know your thoughts in the reviews below :D Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoy X

P.S. I'm in the middle of rewriting this story so updates may take a long time.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters!

 _-SoulReaperOfTheInnocent_

* * *

Panic filled eyes flickered frantically under their lids, entranced by the dark dance choreographed especially for him. Shadows twisted, morphing faceless creatures into his worst fears; fears he didn't even know he had until now. It only took a glance and as realization dawned on him, he found himself asking how they could have possibly been anything else. Once more the icy tendrils of dread pierced through skin and bone to his very core, spreading the familiar numb hopelessness across his entire body. It paralysed him, stuck between the tick and the tock with no way of moving forward. A moment froze in time with nothing to do but bear witness as his whole world shattered around him, unravelling in explosion of chaos. There was a heavy tightness in his chest, caused by the unrelenting grip of despair, forcing the air from his lungs. Suffocation only served as his one way ticket to the brink of death, precariously balanced on the edge of a perpetual abyss which promised no more than a never ending sea of darkness. For a single instant control was returned, death's demented way in forcing him to choose his own fate, an eternity of emptiness or one filled with fear. So with a final inhale, he made his choice. A fleeting moment of weightlessness overwhelmed him before...

"NO!"

His body spasmed and jerked uncontrollably as he was torn violently from his sleep. His conscious mind was reeling; still trying to comprehend that in reality he was still alive. Scott scrambled upright, gasping wildly for air, the events of his reoccurring nightmare still lingering in his head. After a couple of deep breaths, his erratic heart rate slowed and he began to untangle himself from the bed sheets twisted around his legs. Running a shaking hand through his hair, Scott's gaze fell upon the too bright, red numbers on his clock.

03:52

His brothers and he had returned from their most recent rescue at two, but by the time they had finished the post-flight checks, debriefed and he had grabbed a shower, Scott hadn't fallen into bed until three. Still, some sleep was better than none, especially considering the amount of call outs they'd had recently. Sighing - a habit he picked up from his father - Scott dragged himself out of bed, there was no way he was getting back to sleep after that. Stretching his arms above his head, he let out a yawn and moved towards his closet. He threw on some shorts and slipped into his trainers, not bothering with a shirt, before walking out onto the balcony.

In the distance, the first rays of sunlight had broken the horizon, sending swirls of colour across the sky. While it was his brothers who loved the stars, Scott still admired the beauty of nature - when it wasn't trying to kill him. Soon his thoughts drifted back to the previous rescue, when the sailors had been at the mercy of the raging sea, relentlessly trying to suck the crew into her cold embrace. Shivering involuntarily at the memory, he quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts, returning his focus to the tranquil scenery. However the peace did not last long. As the knots in his muscles strained to be released, Scott began to fidget, his body's way of telling him to get a move on. With one last glance at the rising sun, Scott started his descent off the balcony and onto the patio below.

He'd discovered this route to freedom after a fight with his father ended badly and he decided he'd rather risk a broken neck than a run in with the rest of the family at that particular time. It was this exit he used most when he needed time alone to work off the tension which turned his usually short temper into a ticking bomb ready to blow up at any second.

Running was Scott's way of letting go, with the job his brothers and he had, it was important to have an outlet. Each performed their own ritual to release the pent up stress: John would write, mostly about the stars; Virgil would paint or play the piano; Gordon swam to the point Scott wouldn't be surprised if he grew gills and Alan did whatever he felt like at the time.

Yet sometimes this wasn't enough, particularly hard rescues or fighting between the normally close siblings often led to a drastic change in behaviour for all those affected. John, the usually level headed Tracy, openly expressed whatever emotion was raging within him; Virgil, the most passive of the five, resorted to physical violence, whether against the punching bag in Scott's room or the eldest brother himself; Ever light-hearted and prankster Gordon became quiet and more serious, while Alan, who no one ever seemed able to shut up, disappeared to be alone for certain periods of time.

Scott had seen them in both states, but his recent 'dreams'... they were something new, a raw reminder of the promise he had made to his mother 14 years ago. Reaching the ground, Scott changed his thought process; he'd been down that path before and certainly didn't plan on doing it again anytime in the near future. Turning left, he started to follow the winding trail that led down to the beach. The path he took wasn't the quickest, but was fairly unused and Scott could see why. Branches and vines stuck out from all directions, forcing him to dodge and weave his way through their tropical jungle. He didn't mind too much, taking the opportunity to stretch and warm up.

This was his ritual, not just for ridding the tension, but it gave him a sense of control which he lacked so much of in his personal life, mainly due to the unpredictable work hours of International Rescue. Drilled into him during his in the Air Force, Scott tried to live following a schedule as best he could; only Gordon through his time in WASP really understood his need for organisation.

Approaching the beach, Scott let his thoughts drift and as soon as his feet hit the sand, set off at a jog along the white shores of Tracy Island. Steadily increasing his pace, sweat trickled down his forehead and Scott was glad he wasn't wearing a shirt, hating the way it stuck to his back when he ran for long periods of time. Fuelled by adrenaline, it didn't take long before he was flat out sprinting across the golden beach, his mind purely focused on the feel of his muscles relaxing and contracting as blood pumped loudly in his ears. A few minutes later he had reached the small log which he used as an end point for his laps, he had never explored any further along but the incline suggested it would probably lead to one of the many cliff faces that were around the island. Alan once told him about one he had found with an 80ft drop into the ocean. Needless to say Scott had banned him from exploring them anymore after Gordon accidentally let slip that the youngest Tracy had nearly taken a nosedive when he'd gotten too close to the edge. Although the eldest suspected Alan still went when he wasn't around.

Slowly his tension wore off; any last memories of the nightmare washed away like footprints in the sand, flooded by waves of calm that seemed to wash over him every time he came out here for a run. It was in these rare times of peace that Scott was able to relax and just enjoy the thrill of being alive. The fresh, salty, air was comfortingly familiar, as was the rhythmic crash of water against the sand, every so often sprinkling him with droplets of the blue ocean surrounding the island. Gradually time lost its meaning, as his feet pounded the ground and the rest of the world blurred around him.

* * *

"Scott!"

Snapping back into focus, he spotted a figure approaching. Scott looked towards the dark haired man, instantly recognising him as the middle Tracy, although the towel slung over his shoulder seemed a bit out of place. Scott slowed to a light jog as the distance between the two brothers closed. The eldest could now hazard a guess why he needed the towel, if the water still dripping from his hair was any indication, but from Virgil's annoyed look the water more than likely came from the fourth-born Tracy, not a voluntary dip in the pool.

"Damn Scott, you look... Well, like shit." Virgil commented bluntly,

"Good morning to you too sunshine, I can't say much better about you either." Scott retorted, slightly out of breath.

"Gordon decided to 'wake' me up, what's your excuse old man?" The younger huffed and Scott elbowed him in the ribs,

"I've been running, and I'm not old, I just have a few years more experience than you." He replied wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, beginning to stretch his aching muscles.

"Great, now I'm never going to get that image out of my head." Virgil groaned, "So how long have you been down here? I didn't notice you leave while I chased Gordon around the house."

"I don't know, what time is it?" The elder asked. Virgil checked his watch, slightly peeved that his older brother couldn't be bothered to do it himself.

"Quarter past five. Argh, I'm so gonna kill him, why me? Why not John?"

"I guess John doesn't give the same reaction." Scott said smirking, purposely deflecting Virgil's previous question,

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Next time you get pranked don't complain to me about it." Virgil moaned grumpily, throwing his towel at Scott. The eldest accepted it with thanks and began to wipe some of the sweat off his body. "Anyway, as we're all up, Kryano's making breakfast and I was sent to retrieve you."

Scott chuckled, "Thank god, I'm starving; I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."

Virgil cast a worried eye over his older brother, as the team medic it was up to him, and Brains, to make sure everyone was healthy. Now he really looked at his brother, he could see the toll the last couple of weeks had taken on him; it looked like Scott had lost some weight and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. Catching Virgil analysing him, Scott was quick to reassure him that, yes, he was fine. No, he didn't need to lie down for a bit, in fact, he would much rather go inside and stuff his face full of food. Virgil gave him a mixed look of disbelief and disapproval as Scott brushed him off, but allowed the subject to drop, for now. Usually he took his responsibilities as a doctor extremely seriously, however, he also trusted Scott to tell him if the problem was anything more than the eldest could handle himself. He made a mental note to check Scott out later; right now a stack of pancakes drowned in maple syrup was calling his name.

Scott stared longingly at the mountains of food before him, but inwardly sighed in defeat. As the oldest, he had to invite his father to breakfast and so he went in search of the patriarch Tracy. Jogging into the lounge, he found his father talking to the hologram of Alan, who was stationed up at five.

"Hey sprout, what's going on?" He asked casually.

"I told you not to call me that!" Alan grumbled while Jeff began to explain the situation.

"Alan's monitoring a potential rescue - a wildfire threatening to get out of hand - but I'm hesitant to send you all out again if it's not necessary." Scott just nodded as his father finished and looked to Alan for any more information. On the elders cue Alan continued, "So far the locals have it under control, but barely. They've been at it for a couple days already and it won't take much-" Alan was cut off as lights started blinking and alarms went off. Sighing once more, Scott turned to their father, "Let me guess, the wildfire."

Jeff nodded, "Alan, send the coordinates to Thunderbird 1. Scott, you leave now and start organising things on the other end. I'll debrief the others and send them in 2 afterwards. Got it?"

"F.A.B." Both boys replied, already getting to work.

* * *

Suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of dizziness, Scott stumbled slightly as he boarded Thunderbird 1. Pushing past it, he began his pre-flight checks and waited for clearance to take off; once again, he found himself overcome by a bout of vertigo. He inhaled one of the protein bars on board, blaming the sudden nausea on the lack of food and sleep he'd been getting recently. Popping two caffeine capsules in his mouth, he swallowed the pills dry, glad for the energy boost they soon released.

"Thunderbird 1 from Base, you are clear for take-off."

Feeling better, he focused on the task at hand and started launching procedures, taking off towards the rescue site.

With 1's speed it wasn't long before he had an aerial view of the situation. It was hard to see from all the smoke rising into the atmosphere, but within a few minutes he found a clearing large enough for both Thunderbirds that was a safe distance from the blaze. He shot his precise coordinates to Virgil and after getting confirmation, headed off to speak to head official to find out where they'd be needed most.

By the time Thunderbird 2 arrived at the scene, the radius of the fire had increased and with a change in wind direction things had only got worse. Luckily the environmental suits kept them cool against the raging heat of the fire and their helmets had a built-in air filter, but it couldn't stop the stench of burnt wood and ash from clogging their noses. Progress was extremely slow at first; the dense foliage was quick to set alight, the flames spreading like the passing of the Olympic torch. However, once the area became less compact they managed to contain and extinguish the wildfire to the point where it was safe enough for the locals to handle. It was a long and weary seven hours before the boys could prepare to return to the island.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Scott turned around, relaxing slightly as he recognised the Fire Chief.

"Is everything all right?" The Field Commander asked,

"The wildfire is still under control, not to worry, but we have a slight problem." Scott nodded for him to continue, "You see we have a plane ready and loaded with Sky Jell-O, but no pilot. Our normal guys down with the flu and I was wondering if IR could help?"

"Of course, if you give me a minute to dismiss my men, I'll be right over."

"That's great, really. The others and I want you to know that we truly appreciate what you do." Never good with compliments, Scott gave the older man a small smile as they parted ways.

"You guys pack away Firefly and 2, I'll let Base know that I'm staying behind to wrap things up here."

"Are you sure? You're practically on the line as it is for the safe amount of hours flying without rest; you know how Command fusses over his pilot fatigue rules." Virgil asked, taking in the exhausted state of his older brother.

"I'll be fine; I managed to grab a couple hours sleep this morning anyway, I can squeeze in a few more hours of flying." Scott lied. Virgil didn't look convinced, but Gordon didn't seem to notice.

"C'mon, Mr Perfect here may not be tired but I am, please, I'm begging you!" Gordon said dramatically, dropping to his knees and tugging on Virgil's arm.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with the fish, with One's speed he'll probably beat us back anyway." John added.

With one last scrutinising look at the eldest, Virgil folded,

"Fine, don't come crying to me when Command has a fit though."

Scott just rolled his eyes and called Thunderbird 5, he quickly explained the situation and asked Alan to inform Jeff what was going on. After seeing Thunderbird 2 off Scott headed off to see the Chief once more. Fortunately the plane was one of many types and models he'd flown since he was a child, so there were no problems getting it into the air and he spent the next two hours spreading the pink fire - retardant across the danger zone.

* * *

Landing with ease, Scott exited the craft, doing a final check to make sure everything on the ground was in order, before finally heading home himself. When he arrived his brothers were already fast asleep, but had made him up a plate of food. As much as he wanted to stay and eat, he knew Jeff would be waiting for a debriefing from the Field Commander and so Scott made his way to his father's office. As expected Jeff gave Scott a long lecture on the dangers of flying tired; how rules were there to be followed and that he was setting a bad example for the rest of his brothers. Scott was too tired to care and endured the grand speech in silence. Twenty minutes later he finally exited the study, but instead of returning to the plate of food waiting for him in the kitchen, made his way upstairs; uncomfortably aware of the sweat that had built up on his skin.

As soon as he entered his bedroom he began to peel off his clothes, throwing them unceremoniously in a random pile on the floor. The trip to the en-suit bathroom on the other side of the room seemed like a long one, his muscles ached, throbbing to beat of his heart. At last he made it to the tiled room and turned the shower up to the hottest his body could handle. Stepping under the flow of water, he let out a puff of air as the heavy drops pelted his back, loosening the knots in his shoulders. Darkness gradually began to invade his vision and Scott found himself fighting to stay awake as the warmth pulled him towards unconsciousness. The steam that had filled the room suddenly felt thick in his throat and he found himself struggling to suck in enough oxygen. No longer enjoying the suffocating sauna, Scott drowsily shut off the shower and threw open the door. His movements were slow and sluggish as he dried off and put on a pair of old jogging bottoms. The adrenaline high he'd been working off of was dwindling away, and Scott felt even more exhausted as he dropped onto his bed. Planning on shutting his eyes for just a moment, the eldest Tracy was overwhelmed by the need to sleep and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

 **A/N:** Love it, Hate it. Let me know :)


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